Daddy Rogers
by scubagirl98
Summary: Captain America has just returned from chasing the Winter Soldier to find out that SHIELD, the agency that had been infiltrated by HYDRA, is forcing him to adopt a teenage girl. Now he has to juggle with finding Bucky and raising a teenage girl who'll make things...interesting. Main pairing: Romanogers and will eventually have the other Avengers. Rated T because words will be said
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. So I've had this idea in my head for a while and I want to see how it goes. There'll be hints of Romanogers if you squint… Oh who am I kidding, there'll be tons of the stuff! Enough of me blabbering, let's get onto the story!**

**Chapter 1**

Captain Rogers' POV

I shuffled my exhausted body into my apartment after a particularly excruciating mission. Falcon and I had been tracking the whereabouts of Buck…the Winter Soldier. We had traced him back to Pakistan when suddenly we were attacked. Falcon flew the two of us out of there, but not without a bullet grazing his calf and one nicking my right shoulder. Black Widow picked us up in a quinjet somewhere in Eastern Europe, I didn't know or care about which country exactly. She bandaged us up while we debriefed her on what happened.

I flopped onto my living room couch, careful about my bandage, and replayed our conversation on the inside of my eyelids.

_Flashback_

"You need to be more careful, Captain." Natasha said gruffly while tightening the wrapping around my shoulder, making me wince.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm getting shot at." I said with a mirthless laugh.

Sam readjusted his leg on the pillow, "Agent Romanoff's correct, Cap. We need to be more cautious. Maybe we should take a break for a few weeks."

I shot him a glare and he put his hands up in surrender.

"You and I both served, Cap. Albeit, different time period, but regardless, we both served. So you know that you can't chase a target relentlessly forever. You have to lead them into a sense of false security by not following them and then we'll nab them."

I nodded, completely out of options at this point.

"But…"

He cut me off, "I highly doubt the Winter Soldier is going to kill anyone. He's not with HYDRA or SHIELD or any agency we have intel on. He's on his own."

I met his gaze, "So what do we do now?"

Natasha answered for him, "Lay low and don't do anything that might tip him off, but keep tracking him. After a few weeks or months, continue the search."

Sam and I both nodded and we all stayed silent during the flight back to D.C.

_Flashback Over_

I opened my eyes to a knock at my door. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to wipe the tiredness from my eyes, and walked to open the door. After unbolting my 3 locks, I saw a woman with vibrant red and curly hair walk inside.

"Natasha?" I asked sleepily, "What are you doing here?"

She gave me a small smile, "Do you want me to leave, Steve?"

I shook my head, "Of course not, I was just wondering why you would come to my apartment at…" I glanced over at the manual clock in the kitchen, "2:36 in the morning?"

She chuckled and cleared her throat, "I came to make sure you weren't off gallivanting after Bucky by yourself."

My mood darkened, "So you're just here to babysit me?"

"For now, but I have something for you."

She tossed a file onto the coffee table in the living room. I walked over and sat down on the couch, looking through the manila folder. While I went through the contents, Natasha sat down silently in the recliner across from me.

"This is a file on a children's home?"

She nodded, "St. Padre Pio's"

I looked at her questionably, "Why would SHI…" I stopped myself, SHIELD was supposed to have been dissolved for about 2 months now.

Sensing my storm of emotions, Natasha spoke, "Fury wants you to look into this, says it will help you lay low."

I scoffed, "Even though he's not my boss anymore?"

She leaned over and placed her hand on top of mine, "Fury's still trying to piece SHIELD back together, he still believes in heroes."

I didn't say anything and continued to look through the file. Apparently, Fury also had a child in mind as I read through her file.

Name: Sarena Marie Jackson

Age: 14

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Height: 5'4''

Eye Color: Blue-green

Hair color: Brown

Weight: 122lbs

Parentage: Grant and Anna Jackson (killed in car crash-deceased 3 years)

"Why does Fury want me to adopt a 14 year-old?" I asked.

She shrugged, "All Fury told me was that it would help you lay low. Now get some sleep, you have to be there by 8 a.m. tomorrow."

She got up and walked out while I stayed there and continued to look through the file. The question "why?" kept pounding my head as I looked through images and statements about the girl who was about to change my life.

_The Next Morning_

Sarena's POV

I woke up at 7:45 in the morning to little Jamie bouncing on my stomach.

"Rena wake up!" her small voice cried, "Wake up! Wake up! Wake UP!"

I groaned, not even opening my eyes, and said, "Today has been cancelled, go back to bed."

Jamie seem to ponder this as she got off my stomach (which now has a bruise) and padded over to my head, "But breakfast ends in 10 minutes."

My eyes shot open as she ran out of the room, shrieking with joy. I grumbled some swears as I swung my legs off my bed and grabbed my clothes from the foot of my bed and headed to the bathroom. After my nice, hot shower, I tugged on my blue skinny jeans and laced up my brown combat boots. Then I pulled my black t-shirt that said "This We'll Defend" on the front and plaited my hair in a French braid. Once I approved of my appearance, I jetted out the bedroom, down the stairs to the Mess Hall that was past the adoption office.

Once there, I snatched an apple and a water bottle from the buffet line. I walked over to where the older kids were and sat with them. We were all talking about what we we're going to do once we aged out when little Jamie tapped my shoulder.

"Father Sanders said that you were leaving today, so I made you this." She said with tears building up in her eyes.

I placed the card behind me on the table and gave her a hug.

"Don't cry hon, I'll come and visit, okay?"

She nodded and wiped her tears away with her fist. She then skipped back to her table and resumed her conversation. I turned around and looked across to my friend, Megan, who was 13 years old.

"You promise that you'll look after her, right?"

She nodded, "I pinky swear, as long as you come back to visit."

I smirked, "I'll see what strings I can pull."

Then Father Sanders walked in and tapped me on the shoulder, "Time to go, Sarena. Hurry and go grab your stuff."

I nodded, grabbed the red card, and sprinted back to go pack my stuff. Father Sanders was about 45-50 years old with thinning blonde hair. He treated everybody as if we were his children, bringing new meaning to "We are all God's children." He was somewhat skinny and stood at about 5'5'' with pale skin that was beginning to wrinkle.

Finally I reached the girls' bedroom. I ran past the rows of the iron-frame beds until I reached my own. Pulling my old camo duffel bag from under my bed, I began to go through my white dresser/nightstand and take out everything. After organizing everything on the bag, I placed the red card on top and zipped it shut. Swinging it over my shoulder, I ran out of the room, past the seemingly endless rows of beds.

After nearly falling down the spiral staircase twice, I finally reached the adoption office. I calmly walked in and tried to hide the fact that I was out of breath as I stood by Father Sanders.

I saw a man sitting in one of the chairs in front of the oak desk. He was well-built with his blonde hair swept over to one side. His skin was somewhat tan and he wore blue jeans, boots, and a green and white checkered shirt under a brown leather jacket. But his most startling feature was his bright blue eyes that seem to smile at you, if that makes sense. He looked like he was the poster-child for America.

Father Sanders placed a firm hand on my shoulder, "Sarena, I'd like to introduce you to Steve Rogers."

The man, now known as Steve Rogers, stood up and stuck his hand out for a shake. A gesture to which I returned.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sarena." He said with a smile.

"Pleasure's all mine, and please, call me 'Rena'." I said with perfect etiquette.

Father Sanders then turned his attention to Steve, "Well Mr. Rogers…" I stifled a giggle, "It appears you're all set to go."

"Thank you, sir. Ready to go, Rena?"

I numbly nodded as Father Sanders gave me one last hug and I said my thanks. This was really happening, I was actually leaving. I followed Steve out to the parking lot where he locked my bag in the trunk of his blue convertible while I climbed into the shotgun seat and buckled myself in. Then he hopped in and started the car and soon we were on the road. It took all I had to not let the tears fall down.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Steve turn on the radio, "Hope you don't mind 40's music?"

I shook my head, "On the contrary, I kinda like it."

"Really?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah, when my dad used to be stationed in New York, my mom taught me how to dance to this."

My smile faltered as I remembered my parents.

I guess Steve noticed my mood change, "You okay, Rena?"

I nodded, "Yeah…I was just going through old memories."

He seemed to understand since he didn't ask any questions. We drove in silence for a couple miles before I got fed up with it.

"You're former military, aren't you?"

We stopped at a red light and he turned to me, "How'd you guess?"

I smiled, "Well, back in the office, you sat with perfect posture, in the parking lot, you were scanning the buildings for potential threats, but the deal-breaker was the 'GO ARMY' sticker in your back window."

He smiled and turned back around since the light turned green, "You're very observant, Rena."

I smiled at his praise. Our conversation eventually died down into comfortable silence. I turned my head to look at the scenery of downtown D.C. The place where all the pompous politicians "work" and all the secret agencies protect them. I remember that Father Sanders took all the older kids (12-16) to go see "Annie" at the Warner Theater. It was a reward for watching all of the little kids for 4 hours while he was in Maryland giving some service. Coming back, the whole bus sang "Tomorrow, Tomorrow" and "It's A Hard-Knock Life" at the top of our lungs.

"You know, you're a lot like Daddy Warbux." I said off-handedly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know, Daddy Warbux. The billionaire from the Broadway play "Annie"."

"I don't understand that reference."

I looked at his flabbergasted, "You mean you've never seen "Annie"? What are you, from the 50's or something?"

I saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat as we kept driving which made me more suspicious. I decided not to say anything else as we drove on. White puffy clouds morphed themselves into shapes across the blue sky. I was too busy gazing at the sky to notice that Steve had turned into the parking lot of an apartment building. He pulled into a parking spot and stopped the car. I grabbed my bag from the trunk and followed him into the lobby, up the elevator, and to his apartment door. He fumbled around with the key for a bit before the door gave way and we entered.

After he closed the door and turned on the lights, it was like the '40s bitch-slapped me in the face. All over the walls, WW2 regalia and newspaper clippings were preserved in frames and on top of the fireplace mantle hung a perfect replica of the Captain America shield. _Oh, my God_ I thought, _I was adopted either by a psychopath with a fetish for the forties or a Level 9000 hipster._

The hipster in question showed me to my guest room down the hall. He left me to unpack and to take a call. I looked around, taking in my new room. It was modest in size, not too big or small, with a white sliding door closet. I unpacked all my things and placed the red card Jamie made on the blue night stand. I collapsed on the embroidered blue and white duvet on my bed and fell asleep.


	2. Of Musicals and Newspapers

**A.N. Hey, I realized I forgot to do the disclaimer for the last chapter so before Marvel sues me, here it is. I, scubagirl13, don't own Marvel, the characters or the settings. Also, I don't own Annie or Netflix or Chrome Cast or Disney in any way, shape, or form . So now that that's all done, enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

Cap's POV

After hanging up the phone (it was Father Sanders making sure we made it home alright) I went to check on Rena. Peering through the small crack, I saw that she was slumped over on her bed, totally asleep. I smiled gently and closed the door, believing she deserved some rest. I just couldn't believe that she was legally my child now. I don't know how to raise one! Hell, before I became "Captain America" I could barely raise myself. Seating myself on the couch, I called Sam.

After 3 tones, I finally heard his voice, "Mmm... hello?"

"Hey, it's Steve."

I heard some rustling on the other end, "Steve, why the hell are you calling me at 9:35 in the morning? People are still trying to get some shut-eye!"

I laughed, "Okay."

"I'm people, Steve. Now tell me why you called, because I know it ain't about my sleeping patterns on a Saturday morning."

I shuffled uncomfortably, "Sam…I adopted a kid."

Silence. I was beginning to think the line was dead until.

"Cap, when I said we had to lay low and not do anything, that didn't mean go out and adopt a child!"

"Do you think it was my decision to make?" I growled.

"Fury?" he asked gingerly.

I nodded, "Yeah, even when he's not my boss he still gives orders."

"How long are you keeping the kid?"

"Teenager," I corrected, "And I don't know, I guess until Fury says so."

Silence again.

"Has he/she figured out your Captain America?"

I shook my head, "No, I just brought her home a couple minutes ago. She's taking a nap in her room. It's just…I don't know how to raise a child, let alone a teenager! What do I do about…everything?"

I could hear him chuckling over on the other line, "Steve, nobody knows what to do. Parents just wing it or copy their parents. What I'm trying to say is, be the parent your mother would be proud of."

Then he hung up. I got up from the couch and went to Rena's room again. I silently opened the door and walked in. She wasn't on her bed, but was sprawled out on the floor. I chuckled to myself and picked her up and set her back on the bed. I looked around the room, looks like she was already adding her own personal touch. There was a red card on her nightstand and some other miscellaneous items placed around the room. Maybe I should take her shopping. Looking at her sleeping body, I shook my head. She'd had enough for one day, she deserves her rest.

I looked at the clock and decided to wake her up at 11:30, giving her about 2 more hours of sleep. In the meantime, I went into the kitchen and checked the fridge and pantry, making sure I had enough food to feed an army. Apparently, teenagers like to eat a lot nowadays. Guess you learn something new every day.

I plopped back on the couch and turned on the TV to watch the news. My eyes glazed over when the reporter was talking about some dumb scandal surrounding a politician. Why can't politicians be as honest as they were back then? Okay…half as honest. Then my ears perked up at a new story.

"You're correct, Sam," the reporter started, "There have been reported sightings of the elusive assassin known as 'The Winter Soldier' here in Germany. These sightings haven't been confirmed, but there is an ongoing investigation. I'm Sarah James, CNN Germany."

I quickly shut off the TV. _I just can't drop everything and run over to Germany,_ I reminded myself,_ there's a girl I need to take care of._

Speaking of the devil, Rena sleepily walked out of her room. She didn't say anything as she flopped next to me on the couch and threw her legs onto my lap. I chuckled at her antics as her slowed breaths became light snores.

_Time Lapse 2 weeks later_

Rena's POV

I was curled up in Steve's recliner while he was making breakfast at 6 in the morning. I turned my head to the window to see that D.C. was still blanketed by darkness.

"Steve?" I called, "Why are we awake at 6 a.m.? Hell, God ain't even up yet!"

I could hear him chuckle softly from the kitchen and our conversation died like my sleep had. I was eyeing all the memorabilia that decorated Steve's walls. My wandering gaze stopped at a beautiful, hand drawn picture of a woman from the forties. Her lips were stained red and her brown hair was perfectly curled and pinned around her spotless and fair face. Her brown eyes seem to pierce through the paper. Whoever she was, she was quite the bombshell.

Then my gaze fell on an old Captain America picture in a newspaper. Minus the helmet and the uniform, this guy could be Steve's twin! A little too twin-like for me. I would've read the story that followed… if it wasn't cut out. I sat there pondering the image until Steve called me to the kitchen table.

We said Grace and he passed me a plate piled with eggs, bacon, and toast. We ate silently for a while until I finally had to ask.

"Steve, can I ask you something?"

"You just did." He said jokingly.

"Steve, this is serious."

He put the plates in the sink and sat back down at the table, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes…no…well, maybe."

He looked at me with a worried face, "Did you do something, Rena?"

I shook my head vigorously, "No, in fact, it's about you."

He spread his hands on the table, "What about me?"

I drew a deep breath, "Steve, are you…Captain America?"

Silence filled the room with deafening thunder. I scanned his face for any emotion, anything at all, besides worry and…remorse?

"Rena," he said breathlessly, "I wasn't planning to tell you until later, much later. But since you've already figured it out, then I might as well. Yes, I am Captain America."

"Then that means…" I drifted off and pointed to the wall.

"Yes, those are all tokens of my past."

I pointed to the picture of the beautiful woman, "You can tell me that it's a story for another day, but was she your old sweetheart?"

Pain filled Steve's eyes. I immediately felt bad after asking the question.

"Yeah," he choked out, "But that's a story for another day."

I nodded understandingly. Here I was, asking painful questions about a man's past when I wasn't even ready to share my own! How stupid was I? Just as I was about to berate myself again, a devious idea popped into my head.

"Well since you're from the '40s, you've got a lot of catching up to do, Cap."

He chuckled, "So I've been told. I have a list going right now, but it sounds like you have some things in mind."

"You bet your bottom dollar I do! First order of business is that we're going to watch 'Annie', followed by other movie classics you've missed over the years."

He cocked an eyebrow, "So we're starting off with movies."

I nodded, "Because it's easier and more funner to watch movies than to try to understand how to use a cell phone."

"Funner?" He said questionably.

"Yes, it's part of my vocabulary. Along with 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious' and 'ain't'."

He laughed heartily, "Well I guess we better get started then."

I nodded affirmatively and set up the TV. Whoever set it up, thank God they installed Chrome Cast and gave him a tablet. I scrolled through the options until I found Annie. I pressed play and the magic little button that streamed it to the TV. While the opening credits were rolling, Steve came back in with a huge bowl of popcorn.

"Don't look so surprised, Rena." He chided, "People in my time enjoyed popcorn at the theaters too."

I laughed and flopped onto the couch while he set the bowl on the coffee table. The he proceeded to flop like I did and we both had a good laugh. It was fun to see him yell at Ms. Hannigan and criticize what was portrayed to be the "Great Depression."

Then the song, "It's a Hard Knock Life" began and I jumped up ecstatically. Steve was worried at first, afraid that I was hurt. But then I started to sing along and he laughed in understanding. I began to dance around the room while singing and I thought that Steve was going to turn blue.

After the song was finished, I sat down like nothing was wrong. Then I cracked up at Steve's laughter and ate some more popcorn. We sat there in silence, too focused on the movie when the villains were kidnapping Annie.

"No, you moron, they aren't her parents!" I yelled at the 36 in. flat screen, "You must've failed Biology because they looked nothing like her!"

Steve chortled at my antics and remained focused on the film. Then the happy ending came along and we both aww'ed. I grabbed the tablet and started to scroll for another movie when Steve said something.

"So is this all we're going to do today or what?"

I chuckled, "Steve, every morning you've woken me up to go running at 6 a.m. I believe a movie/lazy day is in order."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him roll his eyes humorously and went to refill the nearly empty popcorn bowl. Still scrolling through my options, I happily settled on a film. An old live-action Disney movie known as "Mary Poppins."

Soon after the movie began, Steve came back. He sat down and watched in silence…that is, until "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" came on. Then I started to try (and fail) to sing like Julie Andrews.

After my singing, we went back to watching the movie in silence. When the movie was over, Steve asked.

"So who was the woman who played the main character?"

I tried to hide my shock, "That is Julie Andrews, the epitome of classiness. She started out on Broadway, but then Mr. Walt Disney came and offered her a job after seeing one of her plays."

"Wow," he said, "And you know all this because…?"

"I Google things." I said simply

He nodded and took the empty bowl into the kitchen to wash it. I jumped off the couch and stretched all my limbs.

"So, Rena," he asked, "Do you have any hobbies?"

I thought about it for a while, "When I lived in Texas, I picked up sharpshooting and hunting, so I guess that counts. Umm…I like sewing and singing. And that's about it."

He nodded, "Seems like a good list. Hey, maybe one day I can take you to an indoor range. Would you like that?"

I nodded and smiled, "Yeah, that'd be fun."

He smiled as if I was Santa Claus on Christmas Day, "I'll call my friend and see if I can arrange something. I'll be right back."

He left to his room to make the call. Meanwhile, I took a closer gander at the newspaper clippings. There was one perfectly preserved front page titled "Howling Commandos Save the Day!" It was about Steve…I mean Captain America's special ops unit assigned to him in Germany. His right hand man was his childhood best friend James "Bucky" Buchannan. But sadly his life was cut short as he fell off a HYDRA train they were invading. However, the Howling Commandos stopped the train and cut off all weapons shipments from HYDRA.

It was a nice little story. The paper was yellowed with age and kept behind a really nice frame. I guess Steve wanted to keep part of Bucky with him forever. I felt sympathetic towards Steve, he was frozen in ice for 70 years and woke up to find all his friends and loved ones were either dead or dying of age. I can't even imagine the survivor's guilt he feels, and yet he still has a smile on his face every time I see him.

Just as I was about to continue my parade of thoughts, a shadow moved past the window. It was humanoid in shape, I guess. I can't really make a judgment. Must've been the sunlight again. I sat down on the couch and started another movie, but that shaky feeling that I was being watched never went away. Not even after Steve came back. I tried to dissuade myself and blamed it on a mirage or the fact that I had too much popcorn. Even still, none of my excuses stuck…I wonder why.


	3. Deployments and Netflix

**Chapter 3**

**Cap's POV**

_1 week later_

I woke up to the familiar toll of my alarm at 5:30. I hopped out of bed and quickly got dressed for my morning run with Sam, no doubt that he won't give me crap about missing yesterday. I walked out of the room to find Rena on the couch. The dark circles under her eyes indicated that she had been up for a while, or just never fell asleep. She was visibly shaken, has been for the past week. Every time I ask her about it, she brushes it off and blames it on old memories. Speaking of which, I hardly know anything about her memories. I only know what's on her file and that wasn't very descriptive.

"Rena," I gingerly asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm f…no, I'm not." She said, not looking up at me, "But don't worry, I'll be fine."

I sat down next to her on the couch, "You know you can talk to me right, I'll always be here to listen."

She nodded numbly, "Yeah…I know. It's just…old memories."

"Why don't you tell me about them?"

"Why?" she scoffed, putting her defenses up, "So you can play 'therapist'?"

I shook my head, "No, so that I can understand what's eating you. Maybe help you if you want."

She looked at me questionably, "Steve…it's just…I don't know if you'll understand."

"Try me, I've been through some weird stuff, even fought against a god. Nothing really fazes me now."

"If you say so." She drew a deep breath, "When I was 11, my parents were driving me home from my school's choir concert. It was 8:32 p.m. when Dad noticed something was wrong. 30 seconds later my mom caught on. It took another minute for me to get in the loop. A drunk driver was headed for us. He was going really fast and was in the wrong lane." She wiped away a stray tear, "We had about 45 seconds before collision. Mom and Dad kept saying they loved me, that no matter what happens that they will always love me. I tried to convince them that we'll survive when we crashed. Mom and Dad died right away, a painless death. Meanwhile I was taken to the hospital with a dented skull and a busted right knee that had to be replaced."

She lifted up her face-frame bangs and moved my fingers towards the visible dent in the middle of her forehead.

"Oh my," I said quietly.

"I know, it's nothing like the battlefields in Nazi Germany. But to an 11 year-old girl, it's pretty traumatizing."

I gently placed my hand on her knee, "Rena, you never need to compare your problems to mine. I'll always listen and won't judge you. What you went through was traumatizing, you have a right to be shaken."

She nodded and I got up, convinced that wasn't the reason she was shaken.

"I'm going out for my run, I'll be back in about 30 minutes for breakfast. Okay?"

She nodded and quietly said okay. I walked out and closed the door, praying to God for healing for her.

Rena's POV

I remained seated on the couch, I've seen the shadow for about 5 times now. But I can't tell Steve, he'll just think I'm crazy. It's best if I don't say anything, but then… Well, it doesn't matter now, he's already left.

Suddenly I heard a thump outside my window. I rushed to my room where I grabbed the .45 pistol that Steve bought for me yesterday and pointed it out the window. So I'm paranoid, sue me! I stayed remarkably still in that position for about 20 minutes before Steve came back and found me like that.

"What the hell, Rena?" He nearly shouted, walking in.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't hear you come in." I said quietly.

"Doesn't matter, what I want to know is why you have a gun pointed at my living room window?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was tourist season?" I tried with a hopeful smile.

His glare told me he didn't. I sighed and tossed the gun gently on the couch.

"If you must know," I sighed, "I heard a thump out the window and thought somebody was stalking me or you."

It wasn't totally a lie, I did hear a thump outside my window. I just wasn't telling him that it had been going on for a couple days now.

Just as he was about to say something, there was a knock at the door. I made quick work of hiding the gun while Steve answered the door. Walking back into the living room, I saw that Steve was talking with a semi-tall man with a black eye patch and a black trench coat. His one good brown eye seemed to compare with his cocoa-colored skin. I tried, and failed, to walk back into my room stealthily.

"Ah, so this is Sarena, Captain?" the man in black said as he motioned for me to walk over to him.

I carefully did so, still suspicious of him, "The one and only."

"Rena," Steve started, "This is Nick Fury… he's a…close friend of mine."

His hesitation proved otherwise, but I decided not to bring it up. Besides his name sounded so familiar. It finally came to me and I blurted out.

"Aren't you the director of SHIELD who was shot and killed?"

I felt so stupid right then and there, but who could blame me? I had a potential ghost sitting in my kitchen right now!

"That's a blunt way of putting it, but yes." Nick said.

"But then how are you..?" I drifted off.

He looked to Steve for ideas on how to explain the situation. Finally he said, "It was a lot of fancy surgery and potent medications, my dear."

I nodded understandingly, "Not that I'm not enjoying your company, but why are you here?"

He looked at me kindly, "Well, I heard that Steve adopted a girl and I wanted to see how she was faring."

Wingardium Levi-BULLSHIT! I so wasn't buying his crap. This guy wasn't here for me, at least for the reason he said he was. But I didn't say anything, Steve probably would hate me for it. I went back to my room, but left the door open so that I could still hear them.

"Steve, we need you back in the field."

I was shocked, back in the field? Didn't that field end after the end of SHIELD? What other field is there for Captain America? Besides…who would take care of me? I know I'm 14, but still…

Then I heard Steve's booming voice, "Sir, there is no field you can order me back to since SHIELD fell and you're not my superior anymore."

"Captain, the Winter Soldier has been spotted in Germany."

Winter Soldier? Oh, that one guy with the metal arm that got his mind screwed up by HYDRA. But in Germany? This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

"Sir, with all due respect, I can't go because I have a child to take care of. A responsibility that you dumped on me, I might add."

Tears pricked my eyes out of confusion. Steve never wanted a daughter? He never really wanted me? I shook my head to clear my thoughts, I need to keep an open mind.

"Captain," Nick Fury said sternfully, "Black Widow is already there investigating. Your stealth suit and shield are packed away. The quinjet will be on you roof in 10 minutes. Agent Barton will be here in 5. If I were you, I'd start getting ready."

He left the room and I heard the door close. I sat down on my bed, hunched over. How could it happen so quickly? It was like just yesterday I just got here, now he's leaving me. I heard Steve push open my door.

"I assumed you heard what we were talking about."

"Yeah, every word."

He walked over and sat down on my bed, "I'll only be gone for a week or 2 at most. If all goes well, I'll be back before you know it."

I smiled, but my heart wasn't in it, "Fingers crossed."

We stayed there in silence until I said, "You should go pack; the jet will be here soon."

He nodded and said, "Why don't you help me, girlie?"

I got up and followed after him. He threw a decent-size duffel on his bed. I took the liberty of packing away his phone and charger and a few other electronics. When he looked at me questionably, I said.

"Plane rides are usually boring, even at top speed."

He smiled warmly and allowed me to tuck them away in a small pocket. Soon, I heard the sound of propellers on our roof. Steve zipped his bag shut and we walked up the fire escape to the roof.

A man with brown hair and a suit walked out of the jet. He appeared to be fangirling on the inside.

"Ready to go, Cap?" He asked.

He nodded, "As I'll ever be, Agent Coulson."

Another man came out of the quinjet. He had brown, spiky hair and wore a black tactical suit and a black tank top. A compound bow and arrow were strapped across his back. He walked over to Steve and gave him a firm handshake.

"Take care of her," Steve said firmly.

"You have my word, Cap."

Steve turned to me, "Rena, this is Agent Barton. He's going to be you-"

"Babysitter? Kinda figured that out." I said coldly.

Cap just gave Agent Barton the 'what can you do' look. He gave me one last hug and promised that he'll be back soon. Agent Barton and I watched as the quinjet took off into the horizon. When we walked back into the apartment, he said.

"So what do you what do you want to eat since it's…" He glanced at the clock, "Nearly 8 o'clock."

I shrugged, "What have we got in the pantry?"

He began to dig through while muttering, "Oatmeal, dried fruit, trail mix, and seaweed? Wow, your dad really is a stickler when it comes to food."

I chuckled, "That's not completely true. He just keeps it around for after work-outs."

"Damn, so you work out with him?"

I shrugged, "As much as I can before I pass out from exhaustion."

He chuckled, "I don't think anyone can keep up with your dad."

I laughed lightly, "So how did you get stuck being my babysitter, Agent Barton?"

He just looked up from his phone and said, "I volunteered. Figured you'd need somebody who'd understand kids. And please, call me Clint."

"Okay, Clint. So what are you ordering?"

He didn't even look up from his phone, "Ordering pizza, pepperoni alright?"

I looked at him incredulously, "Pizza for breakfast?"

Clint nodded, "Why not? It's not like Steve's going to find out?"

I laughed, this guy just might be pretty cool. I plopped back on the couch and turned on Netflix to watch some comedy special. Meanwhile, Clint set up camp in Steve's room and it was then that I realized that I was still in my pajamas which consisted of a black tank top and a pair of Steve's old sweatpants and my hair was in a curly wreck. _Well, not like it matters now_, I though, _3 government officials have already seen me. How much worse could it get._

Then Clint walked out of the room and laughed at my flopped over position.

"By the way," he said as he went into the kitchen to grab a drink, "Nice hair, I hear the rat's nests are totes in."

I groaned and flopped over onto the floor. This was going to be a long-ass…however long Steve is on Germany, but…it just might be fun.


	4. I'm Coming Home

**Chapter 4**

Clint's POV

_3 weeks later_

I woke up at 7:30 a.m. to the sound of my internal alarm. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from my duffel bag. Walking out of Steve's room, I saw that the door to Rena's room was still closed, indicating that she was asleep.

I glanced outside the living room window in worry. _When the hell are you getting back, Steve?_ I thought frantically, as if that would bring him back. I could already see that his absence was taking a toll on Rena. She slowly became less cheery and upbeat, though she tried hard to put on a mask for me. I saw the way she looked over at the windows, she needed her daddy back.

I slowly crept over to her room and opened the door. I still saw her sleeping body in an oversized t-shirt and pants that had to be safety pinned 3 times at the waist, both obviously belonging to Steve at one point. I smiled evilly as I walked over to the blue curtains and dramatically opened them. Sunlight poured into the room like a busted water balloon. She groaned in distaste and pulled the covers over her head in a feeble attempt to block out the impeding light.

"Why the hell are you waking me up at…whatever the hell time it is?" She hissed from the darkness.

"Considering its 7:30, I thought it'd be nice to go out for donuts. Of course, unless you're too busy sleeping."

She shot up like a rocket, "I'm up; I'm up!"

I chuckled deeply as she shooed me out of her room in order to get dressed. I sat down on the living room couch and waited for her. I pulled my phone from my pocket and played on it while I waited. Finally, she emerged wearing a pair of cargo short shorts, and a dark tan shirt that had a skull and a SCUBA tank on the back. She wore a pair of leather sandals with the straps dyed teal.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded and we left the apartment to go to the nearest "home-style" bakery. After about a block of walking, we finally happened upon a place. Wasn't very original in the title, "D.C. Home-Style Bakery." Walking in, I saw some of that sparkle return to Rena's eyes as she eyes the delectable treats. Chuckling lightly, I walked up and ordered a simple apple fritter while Rena ordered a chocolate éclair. The waitress grabbed the items and I paid for the items while she wished us a good morning.

I chose a spot by the window and we began to eat in silence. After I finished, I noticed that Rena had barely touched her éclair.

"You alright, Rena?"

She nodded, "Yeah, just a little tired."

"Well eat some sugar; that should help."

She had a small laugh before eating. I could tell something was troubling her. I would ask, but I already knew the answer. To me, Steve just left for another mission, per usual. But to Rena, an adolescent, it seemed like Steve was abandoning her.

Out of the blue, my com link went off with Agent Coulson's voice.

"Barton, we need you at the Besthda Hospital stat."

"What happened?" I asked frantically.

"Rogers and Romanoff, they're back. They've been back for 2 days now, but not everything's great. Rogers' fine, but Romanoff sustained 2 gunshot wounds to the shoulder and 1 to the calf. She's also sustained multiple fractured ribs and a possibly broken leg. Clint…she just got out of surgery."

"Do you want me to bring the girl?"

I could practically smell the worriedness off of Rena's face. I held up one finger and continued to press the com link with the other.

"At this point," he said grimly, "I'd let you bring in the 3 ring circus if it got him away from her bedside and into the world."

I nodded, "Affirmative, be there in 5-10 minutes. Barton out."

I released the com link and got up.

"Where're we going, Clint?"

"The hospital," I said simply, "Now let's get the car."

Once we ran back to the apartment and literally hopped into my black sports car, we were zooming down the streets of downtown D.C. towards the medical district.

"Clint…what happened? Why are we suddenly going to the hospital?"

I sucked in a deep breath and clenched my hands around the steering wheel, "Steve and Natasha are back from their mission."

She got this really elated look on her face, then the stark reality set in.

"Steve's not dead is he?"

I shook my head, "No, but Natasha is. She was shot 3 times and fractured a lot of bones."

"Oh my…"

"Yeah, so we have to go check on her and keep her company. Y'know, keep her mind off the pain. You think you can do that?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I can do that."

I exhaled a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Hopefully, Steve won't freak out now.

Rena's POV

"Steve's home." Those are the only words that mattered to me at the moment. Finally, after nearly a month of agonizing wait, he's home! But at a price, I sincerely hope Natasha, whomever she may be, is okay. The way Clint said it, it seemed that he cared for Natasha like they were brother and sister. I really hope she'll be okay.

We pull into the parking lot and climb out of the car. Clint then grabs my hand and tells me to not let go as we weave through the lines of citizens and doctors in the hallways. Then we climb the steps for about 3 flights until we reach Natasha's room. Before we could go in, a man (who Clint addressed as "Agent Coulson") stopped us.

"Be careful," he warned, "Captain America is in a really emotional state right now. Go in there quietly, but don't sneak up on him."

I could tell that this conversation was directed mostly to Clint.

"What should be our plan of entry?" Clint asked.

Coulson's gaze shifted to me and then back to Clint, "Send the girl, Rena, first. I don't think he'll lash out on her."

As much as I hated being the guinea pig, I was willing to do damn near anything to see Steve again. Coulson then took my hand and led me into the room, shutting the door behind me.

The sight made me want to almost break down in tears. I saw Steve hunched over and holding the hand of a beautiful, red-haired woman who must've been Natasha. I cleared my throat softly, letting Steve know there was somebody else in the room.

"Who is it?" Steve asked remorsefully.

"It's me." I said simply, not knowing what else to say.

He suddenly whipped around and I flinched, fearing he would hurt me. But instead he drew me up in a strong embrace. I was shocked to say the least, but I quickly returned the hug, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I've missed you so much, Steve." I whispered, tears threatening to spill over.

He hugged me tighter, "Me too, kiddo. Me too…"

We stayed there for what seemed like hours until I heard a raspy voice cry out, "So this is the girl you've been talking non-stop about, Cap?"

We broke away and Steve led me to the hospital bed.

"Rena," he introduced, "this is Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is my daughter, Rena."

She shifted until she was in a sitting position.

"Well, pleasure to meet the woman who's finally getting him into the real world."

I softly smiled and nodded. I was about to say something else when a doctor in a lab coat walked in.

"Well, Miss Romanoff, everything's checked out okay. You're free to go home."

She nodded and he walked out while Coulson and Clint walked in.

"How you feeling, Romanoff?"

"Like I could still kick your ass, Barton." She grunted.

Coulson cleared his throat, "Agent Romanoff, due to your condition, we find it important that you don't stay by yourself at your place. You will be relocated to one of the bunkers at SHIELD."

Steve shook his head, "That won't be necessary."

Coulson raised his eyebrows, "Captain, in her condition-."

"It won't be necessary because she'll be staying with me."

"It' alright, Steve." Natasha said, "I'd hate to impose on you."

"Oh, you wouldn't be imposing at all." I piped up, "I'll gladly sleep on the couch."

She was about to refute me, but Clint cut her off.

"Nat, bunking with Steve is probably the best thing to do since SHIELD beds are utter shit and I live at SHIELD."

I nodded, "Clint…I mean, Agent Barton's right. All I've to do is spruce up my room and its move-in ready."

Seeing that all of us were against her, she relented.

"Alright, but just until I recover."

We all nodded and Steve signed some liability documents that Coulson "oh so conveniently" had with him in his suit pocket. After that, a nurse brought in a wheelchair and the guys helped Natasha into it. It was pretty easy to tell that this woman was a fighting machine from how well her muscles were toned to the scars that were barely peeping out behind her makeup. From her grimaces, I could tell she hated being helped. Maybe she saw that as a sign of weakness. 

Soon after, Steve was rolling Natasha out of the hospital with me by his side. Once outside the sterile prison, Steve wheeled Natasha to his car while I walked with Clint. We all agreed to meet up at Steve's place, but Clint would drop me off a few blocks away, so as to not draw suspicion.

The ride back was silent, deafening silence. I almost wanted to scream, but I kept my composure.

"So what's going to happen to you now, Clint?"

He pondered that for a moment, "I'll probably go back to New York, got a friend there that needs some help."

I nodded understandingly and the conversation died. Silence once again filled the car until it came time for me to leave. He dropped me off by that donut shop that we went to this morning. I said goodbye and shut the car door behind me before he sped off in the distance. Damn, all this happened in one day! It's barely noon!

I guess I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't realize I ran into somebody until the actual collision and a light ping filled the air.

"Oops, sorry about that. Got lost in the scenery." I apologized.

"It's alright." A baritone voice said, "It happens to all of us."

I smiled and kept walking on. It wasn't until I was outside the apartment that I realized that arms shouldn't make a metallic "ping" when collided with. (Anatomy was never my strong suit.) I opened the door to find Steve eating that dried seaweed that tastes like cow shit (don't ask me how I know that) in the kitchen.

"Glad you're back, Rena." I could sense the weight that those words bore.

I smiled, "Good to be back. Is Natasha in her room?"

He nodded, "She's just putting some stuff away, don't worry."

Awkward silence filled the air. I guess this is part of what they meant about how a soldier's real battle is in their home. The battle of re-communicating with family.

"So…" I said, "How was Germany?"

He shrugged, "Alright-ish. But Frankfurt was really nice."

I nodded, "That's good… So I'm assuming that Clint brought you up to speed on what's been happening?"

He nodded, "Yeah. So pizza for breakfast, huh?"

I laughed, "Clint's idea, not mine."

He chuckled and shook his head, "Whatever you say. Anything else new?"

I shrugged as I got myself a glass of water, "He taught me how to sneak around and shoot things."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Oh joy."

I chuckled lowly, "Yeah, but he kept me from causing trouble. Well, too much trouble."

We both shared a laugh and it died in the air. Thundering silence filled the kitchen as I twiddled my fingers.

"So…what happens now?" I asked nervously.

"We, uh, just try to go back to normal."

"And if that doesn't work?"

He smiled warmly, "Then we'll create a new normality. I know all this change is sudden, but it will even out soon. I promise."

He wrapped me up in another hug and kept whispering how everything's going to be fine, mainly to convince myself. Maybe everything will be fine, but with my luck, shit shall hit the fan at the most inopportune time.


	5. Back to Normality and Nightmares

**Chapter 5**

Cap's POV

I released Rena from my grasp so that she would go pick up her room. Standing in the kitchen alone, I remembered that fatal shootout in the outskirts of Stuttgart.

_Flashback_

We were checking out a lead that lead us to an old farmhouse out in the country. Everything was going well until gunfire exploded onto us. We quickly hid up in a hayloft when they stormed us. Bullets flew everywhere as Nat and I tried to figure out a safe escape. Finally, we found a small opening in the back where we could easily make it out, but it would leave us exposed.

After a couple arguments, we finally decided to go for it. I covered Natasha with my shield, which deflected all of the bullets. After I jumped through the hole, we ran across the clearing full of wheat until we saw a familiar shield quinjet. While we were getting inside, Nat took 2 shots to the shoulder and nearly fell off the ladder. I quickly nabbed her in time and nearly shoved her in there, buckling her into her seat.

But the shooters weren't finished, they threw grenades at the quinjet. The jet was still in one piece, but the force from the explosion caused some turbulence which caused some of the crates to fall on Nat and me. I was alright, just a few minor fractures, but Nat…her shin and ribs were nearly shattered because she couldn't curl in to protect herself. No thanks to me.

We flew at top speed to the hospital back in D.C., guilt riding on my shoulders as I kept begging her to stay with me and to not close her eyes. I saw the blood seeping through and the black bruises beginning to be seen through her red fitted shirt. All this, because of me.

_Flashback over_

I looked up to see Rena pulling out a spare sheet from my linen closet. I saw her struggling to get to the pillows to the top shelf. I chuckled to myself at the sight of her jumping and trying to balance on her tip-toes. I shook my head and walked over to her side and simply reached and grabbed a normal-size pillow.

She stuck her tongue out at me, "I could've done it by myself."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, "You would've hurt yourself if you tried."

"Nu-uh!" she said like a 3 year-old.

"Uh-uh." I mocked, "C'mon, let's get your couch set up."

Rena helped me pull the fitted seat over the couch cushions and positioned the pillows to how she wanted them. Seeing her so concentration on the pillows sparked another memory from Germany, but this was set in Frankfurt.

_Flashback_

Nat and I were camping out in an old hotel room conversing about how we've been when the conversation turned to Rena.

"You really love her, don't you?" She said warmly.

I sat down on the edge of the queen-size bed and ran my hand through my hair, "Yeah, I do. But I don't know if she loves me back."

Nat sat down beside me, tossing her legs onto my lap and running one hand through my hair, "She does, trust me. I can tell by the way she playfully gets annoyed by you when you wake her up early, by the way she's starting to incorporate red, white, and blue into her daily outfits, and how she was near tears when you were boarding the quinjet. She wouldn't do all that if she didn't love you."

I nodded understandingly, "True, but still…" I said, trailing off.

"Still what?" She pressed.

"I know I've left for missions before. Hell, longer than this one! But I feel so guilty for leaving her behind, even if it is for only a few weeks."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smile. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to my cheek gently.

She pulled away and said, "You're a great father, Rogers. Don't forget that now."

_Flashback over_

Those words still reverberated in my mind. I looked on the couch to see that Rena was already asleep. Chuckling to myself, I walked to Nat's room, knocking on the door first.

"Come in."

I walked in to see Nat was still in her wheelchair.

"Hey, Steve. How's Rena?"

"Right now she's asleep."

She snorted, "Typical teen, besides, she's had a pretty hectic day."

I nodded, "Yeah, we all have. Do you want help getting into bed?"

"Sure, but you'll have to buy me dinner first." She said, flashing a grin.

Blush rushed to my cheeks as I realized how that could be interpreted in the 21st century.

Sensing my plight, Nat wheeled over to me, "Steve, it's alright, it was a joke. And yes, for once I'd like some help.

Her arms wrapped around my neck when I bent down and picked her up bridal style. I carefully carried her over to the bed and set her down gently. I tucked the covers around her and made sure everything was okay.

"G'night, Natasha." I soothingly said before I kissed her cheek and walked out, pretending not to notice the blush that was slowly crawling up her cheeks.

I looked at the clock in the hallway, it was barely 8:35 at night! _At least I might get some sleep for once_, I thought tiredly. I walked into my room and closed the door. I exchanged my jeans and button up for a pair of plaid pants and a loose tank. I buried myself beneath the covers and fell into slumber as soon as my head collided with the pillow.

It was approximately 2 a.m. when I heard my door squeak open. Waking up in a second, I grabbed my shield from the side of my bed and held it at the ready.

"Who's there?" I hissed.

"R-Rena, y-y-your ward."

Guilt hit me like a hammer as I placed my shield back where it was.

"Rena? What are you doing awake?"

In the dim light I saw her gripping her pillow tightly, fingernails slightly tearing into the fabric.

"I…uh…had an l-less than d-desirable…d-dream." She stuttered fearfully, trying to be brave.

I sighed, remembering those times where I had nightmares and I'd crawl into bed with my mom and she'd sing me back to sleep.

I motioned her over, but she remained fearfully in her spot by the door frame.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Rena." I said calmly, "I was scared, like you are."

"I never said I was scared!" She said in an outburst.

I shook my head, "Well, do you want to talk about it?"

She gently began to pad over to my bed, still holding her vice-like grip on the pillow.

"It was just a nightmare, I don't even know why I came in here."

I flicked on my reading lamp and saw that she had noticeable dark circles under her eyes.

"Rena," I said worriedly, "How long have you been up?"

"Christ, Rena!" I exclaimed, "Why didn't you wake me up before?"

She sat on the edge of the bed and shrugged, "I thought I could handle it like before, but then some…not-so-nice images began to float around."

I scooted closer to her, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She began to shake her head, but then nodded instead, "Parts of it, I'm still figuring out the rest."

I wrapped my arm around her tiny frame, "Go at your own pace, hon."

She took a deep breath, "It was like I was falling down the rabbit hole, from _Alice in Wonderland_. These images then flashed on the walls; the night my parents' died, then the hospital, then…some other events."

Other events? I wanted to question her, but I was afraid that it would ruin the whole process.

"Then I saw you. You were leaving me, Steve, saying how you didn't want me anymore. I was bleeding out on the sidewalk, yet you continued to say how I got myself into that position. That's how I knew it was a dream, but it still scared me. Then I saw a shadow, the one I've seen in the windows from time to time. The shadow…it was taking everyone. Suddenly, I was standing in a cemetery. The tombstones engraved with every person I cared about."

Tears made heavy tracks down her cheeks. I pulled her in for a hug and she sobbed into my shirt, making rather large tear stains. I kept my hold on her until the sobs subsided.

"Feeling better?"

She nodded, and then suddenly looked green in the face. She ran into the bathroom and retched the remnants of last night's dinner, I guess all the bawling triggered it. I followed her and held her hair back as she finished up. I made her brush her teeth and throw it away in the trash can.

"I'm sorry, Steve, crying too much can make a girl lose her lunch."

I smiled sadly, "You've got nothing to apologize for. Do you feel better?"

She nodded meekly, "Yeah, I'll just go back to sleep."

I nodded and she walked out of the room and back to her couch. I slumped back on the bed, feeling completely useless and tried to go back to sleep.

Rena's POV

I sauntered back to the sofa, still shaken, both physically and mentally, at my nightmares. I felt my hands twitch, happens every time I'm seriously frightened or threatened. A flight or fight stimulus. I remembering Father Sanders telling me, "Just keep calm, God will help smite your problems."

Whatever, I sat down and placed my chin on top of my intertwined hands that rested on my legs. I attempted to sort through the nightmare, going through the images as if they were in a scrapbook.

Finally, I happened at the heart of it. There was a black room, dimly lit by a hanging lamp. I stood at one side of the room and…I also stood at the other, but it wasn't me…as crazy as that sounds. It was another half, a more violent, and silent, part of me.

We began to fight, I have no idea why, but we did. Blows and kicks were tossed around and I felt every one of them. I looked around the room, we were all alone, except for a man with a mechanical arm with a red star at the bicep. The second I made eye contact with him, he was gone, vanished into thin air.

I tried to focus on the fight, but feeling every injury inflicted made it difficult to concentrate. It began to become too much. The blows persistently got harder and harder and harder until…I woke up in a cold sweat.

I shook my head, trying to erase that image from my mind. Why were there 2 of me and why were we fighting? I mean, hell, it was me! I'm pretty sure there's no reason for me to be fighting against myself!

I tried to clear those thoughts from my mind, it should only be a repercussion, nothing more. Nothing more! I waveringly stood and went to the kitchen to make some hot water and lemon. While grabbing the mug from the microwave, I sloshed some of the boiling liquid down the front of my shirt. Whisper-yelling a slew of swears, I dabbed the stain with a paper towel, soaking up the hot water.

Once that was all said and done, I walked over to the window sill bench and sat down, gazing at the 2:45 a.m. stars across the D.C. skyline. I sipped my half-full cup every once in a while, taking in the view. Soon, I heard the familiar footsteps of Captain America.

"Wonderful view, right?"

I nodded, "Yeah, just wish I didn't have to have a nightmare to see it."

He ruffled my hair, "I know…back in Germany. I used to gaze up at the night sky while on night watch. I used to think, _how could so much beauty be in such an evil place? _I never told the rest of the Commandos, but I think they all agreed with me."

"How did you do it, Steve?" I asked, "How did you manage to go through hell, literally in this case, and come out smiling?"

He chuckled dryly, "Well, to tell the truth, I've been through many versions of hell, most of them with Natasha. Punching a few bad guys help." He smiled at my soft laughter, "But for the long run, you think about how much life would be different if you'd fail and how much better you made it by succeeding. Then you go to a bar for a few drinks."

I quirked an eyebrow, "I thought the Super Soldier couldn't get drunk?"

He shrugged, "I can't, but sometimes just the flavor helps."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, but I don't think that'd work on me, Steve."

He shook his head, "Oh, I know and don't you let me catch you drinking heavily. The drinking age may have been different way back, but I still uphold the laws of this country."

I quirked ab eyebrow, "You broke multiple laws while serving SHIELD and you're going to get hoity-toity with me having the occasional beer?"

"Pretty much, because giving into the alcohol is the coward's way out and you, my dear, are no coward."

"Okay, then what can I do?"

He sat down beside me, "Talk about it, punch a few bags in the gym, and have a root beer."

"In that order?" I chuckled.

He nodded with a smile, "I don't see why not."

I shrugged, "Who knew that being the daughter of a superhero was going to be such a pain in the ass. Especially one who abides by all the freaking rules!"

He snorted, "I never said it wasn't."

"You never said it was." I retorted, "So what happens now? Do we just wait around until SHIELD deploys you again?"

"That, or wait for another apocalypse."

I looked at him questionably, then realized he was talking about the Battle of New York.

"You better get to bed, kiddo. I have to go in to fill out paperwork so you'll be spending the day with Natasha." He said while getting up.

"Oh goody," I mumbled disdainfully, "I get to spend the whole day with a woman who can kill me 17 different ways with her pinky."

Apparently he heard me a he was walking away since he laughed and said, "It's actually 21 ways, Rena."

I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the skyline until the sun rose up, signaling a new day.


	6. Secrets at the Shooting Range

**A.N. This chappie will be filled to the brim with fluffiness (Mother/daughter-esque) and action so prepare yourselves! **** Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers**

**Chapter 6**

Rena's POV

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder. A feminine voice kept calling out, "Rena…Rena…"

"Mmmm…Mom?" I said with my eyes closed.

The voice chuckled, "No, try a friend of Steve's."

I gently opened my eyes to see the red-headed Natasha sitting in her wheelchair, leaning over me. Moving into a sitting position, I stretched my arms which caused my back to pop rather loudly.

Natasha sighed while shaking her head, "So, Rena, you're stuck with me for today, anything you want to do?"

I yawned and said, "Sleep."

She laughed, "How about something else?"

Being tired really hindered my thinking capacity, seeing how it was only 8 in the morning, "Umm…Maybe go down to a rifle range? Steve and Clint both talked about it, but we've never really had a chance."

She pondered that for a second and concluded with a smirk, "I'll go see what strings I can pull. In the meantime, how about you go get dressed and ready to go."

I nodded affirmatively, as if I was following orders, and walked into my room to get dressed. Once there, I pulled some of the few clothes I had, a black t-shirt that said "This We'll Defend", blue skinny jeans, brown lace-up combat boots, and for the finishing touch, a blue-jean jacket that I may or may not have stolen from Steve's closet. *insert devious smirk here* I washed my face in the bathroom and applied some BB cream and called it good. Heading back to my room, I grabbed a brown hair tie and French braided my hair. After twirling and approving of my appearance, I walked out of my room and sat at the counter, waiting for Natasha.

She wheeled out of Steve's room, arguing on her cell phone. She noticed me and held up one finger as a sign for "hold-on". She continued to argue with the voice on the other line a she put on her black, high-heeled boots.

"It's not like it's going to be the first time! I'll be there to supervise!"

Silence. Natasha rolled her eyes, but wore a secretive smile, a sign she wasn't liking what she was hearing.

"You really think it's her first time? Really?" She countered.

She sighed angrily, that miniscule smile still tattooed on her lips, waiting for a chance to support her side again.

"Steve, think of it as a bonding moment between Rena and I. You said that you wanted me and the other Avengers to be somewhat comfortable around her."

Finally she smiled, a gesture indicating that she got what she wanted.

"Thank you, Steve. I'll call if anything happens." She hung up.

"Ready to go, kid?" She asked.

I nodded, "Whenever you are, Natasha."

She smiled wickedly and said, "Then let's ride."

Once we were in the black sports car and on the road to God knows where, I finally mustered up the courage to ask her a question that was plaguing my mind.

"Natasha," I began.

"Please, call me Nat." She kindly interrupted.

I nodded, "Okay, Nat, how…how would you describe your relationship with my d…Steve?"

She barely smiled, "You mean to ask if I have romantic feelings for Cap?"

I nodded meekly, afraid to make her mad. She was a Russian spy after all.

She laughed dryly, "Well, Rena, I don't know yet. There are feelings, but I haven't categorized them yet."

I shrugged, feeling that that was the closest I would get to an answer. I looked out the window and gazed at the fast-moving scenery. Trees and buildings became blurs as we sped down the streets of D.C. I began to wonder where we were going, I mean, we couldn't go back to the Trileskion, that place was out of commission since the HYDRA fiasco. Then my wondering became spoken words.

"Nat, where exactly are we going?"

"To the shooting range, it's in what you'd call 'the backwoods'." She stated.

I made an 'O' shape with my mouth and nodded.

"Wait," I questioned, "Why are we going so far out? Aren't there places to shoot in D.C.?"

She tightened her grip on her steering wheel just a hare, "I'm not exactly…welcomed in D.C. Besides, you're Captain America's daughter, a prime prize for any kidnapper."

I made my understanding of the new subject clear by saying, "Okay."

She was about to say something to comfort me when suddenly we came to a stop. We were in front of an old wooden cabin way out in the backwoods of Maryland. I looked around at all the towering trees, feeling incredibly small. I witnessed Natasha whip out her phone and dial someone.

When they finally answered, I heard her say, "We're here, are you ready?"

Apparently the other line said yes because she hung up the phone with a smile on her face. I helped her out of the car and wheeled her to the cabin door where she punched a few numbers on a keypad that just appeared on the rust-red door. Soon, the door gave way to a room that did not look like it belonged in a cabin.

My boots thumped against the metallic floor as I walked by Natasha towards the elevators. Once inside, Natasha hit a series of buttons and went through one retinal scan before the elevator began to move to our destination. The elevator was small and circular with no windows, only the silver coloring of the steel and aluminum. We jolted to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a very high-tech shooting range.

"Whoa…just whoa." I exclaimed, "Man, SHIELD does go all-out."

She laughed lightly, "Yeah…well, at they did."

I glanced over in her direction, "You expect me to believe that SHIELD fell with HYDRA? Even after what Fury, who's supposed to be dead, forced my d…Steve into going on a nearly month-long recon mission in Germany that got you in a wheelchair and required Agent Barton, one of the best marksmen I've ever seen, to watch me through this ordeal?"

Nat frowned a little, "You weren't supposed to know where we were going or what we were doing. Who told you?"

I shrugged, "No one, I heard about the sightings of the Winter Soldier in Germany and put the pieces together."

She frowned some more, then changed the subject, "So what do you want to start off with, Rena?"

I looked over the wide variety of weapons in the highly-protected display cases. I kept browsing through them until I saw a bow and arrow.

"Could I start off with the compound bow, please?" I asked politely.

She smirked and typed in a few commands to open the case, "You do realize that Barton will never let your dad live this down once he hears about it."

I tossed my braid over my shoulder, "Oh, I know." I said while smirking.

After putting on the protective eyewear, no doubt a command from Steve, I took my stance on one of the ranges. I notched the arrow and drew it all the way back to my cheek. Keeping my breaths even, I focused on the bull's eye of the target and loosed the arrow. I watched it fly and embed itself into the target with pride pushing my smile wider. I ran down to the other end of the 150 meter hall to find the arrow a few centimeters off of the target. Nonetheless, I smiled and sprinted back to try again and again until I ran out of arrows, each time running down there to see where they landed.

Natasha's POV

My heart swelled with pride as she took to the bow and arrow. I'll admit, I may have snapped a few photos on my phone. After a while, I wheeled over to her and advised her to try some throwing knives and a few pistols. She agreed eagerly, though we quickly found out that throwing knives weren't her thing.

Rena grabbed 3 knives from the case and I already knew that it wouldn't end well. She nearly dropped one on her boot just as she was walking to the other range. I wheeled after her, knowing that there'd be at least one injury I'd have to dress before we'd leave. I watched her from a distance as she took her stance.

"Now hold the knife by the blade." I instructed, "But be very careful."

She nodded and carefully followed my directions.

"Have your hand by your ear, but not too close." I watched as she followed my directions verbatim, "When you're ready to throw, lean into it as you're throwing it, but not too much. That'll keep the knife on target."

"Okay." She said shakily.

I observed as she drew deep breaths and finally threw the knife. However, instead of the perfect bull's eye she expected, the knife barely even hit the target. I disappointment etch itself onto her features as I wheeled over to her.

"That's alright," I stated, observing the target, "We've got time to improve. We all can't be protégés at everything we try."

That seemed to improve her mood by about a fraction.

"Here," I handed her another aerodynamic, black knife. Forgetting about how I was trained to use these knives, "Try again."

Rena looked more determined as I watched her take her stance again and try again. But, I noticed that she held it too close to her face. I tried to warn her, but it was too late. She was already in the action of throwing the knife when the silver edge made a small, but bleeding gash on her right cheek. It didn't seem that she noticed since she just kept going with the last 2 knives. Upon a closer inspection of her face, I noticed that her eyes changed, along with her facial features. Rena looked more angry, but it didn't look like how she' normally look angry. It was like she was a totally different person. Her posture was more open, ready to fight.

Although, her most startling feature were her eyes, they changed color. I'm not talking about a simple shade difference. I'm saying that her eyes used to be a lovely mixture of blue and green, but now they were almost gray!

"Rena," I asked gingerly, "Are you okay?"

By just saying that, her eye color slowly changed back to what it was and her posture snapped back to Rena's norm.

"…Yeah." She said hesitantly.

I breathed a sigh of relief, as if I hadn't just seen what happened, "That's good. C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up. The last thing I need is for Steve to be harping on me for not taking care of you."

She nodded and followed me to the First Aid kit that hung up on the wall. I dug through the contents, finding disinfectant spray and a band aid. She sat down in front of me and I sprayed the wound, causing her to wince.

"Sorry," I apologized, "Forgot to warn you about the sting."

She nervously laughed, "It's alright. Nothing I can't handle."

"Atta' girl." I praised as I covered the slash with the bandage, "And we're good to go."

She smiled and thanked me.

"Now, do you want to move onto the pistols or go back home?" I asked.

She yawned, "Could we go home, Nat? I'm kind of tired."

I smiled and nodded, "Of course. We can always come back some other time."

We went back inside the elevator and exited the cabin to get inside the car. The long ride back to the apartment was silent, neither one of us wanting to start a conversation. She because she was too engrossed in the mark on her cheek and I because of what I saw. All that we heard was the hum of the engine and the occasional honking from cars passing by.

When we reach the apartment, Rena excuses herself to the bathroom to see if she can make the wound look not as bad as it is. I waited until her door was shut to whip out my phone and all Clint, the only other person besides Steve that watched over her.

After 3 tones, he finally picked up, "Nat?"

"Are you alone?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" He inquired.

"When you babysat Rena," I stated, making sure the bathroom door was still shut, "Did anything seem off to you?"

I could practically see him shaking his head, "Nothing out of the ordinary, just hated to sit by the window in the living room. What happened, Natasha?"

"Did her eyes ever change color?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"What? No! Why would that happen? Natasha, what the hell happened?" He spluttered.

I sighed, still making sure the door remained shut, "I took Rena out to the range today… she was at the throwing knives station when she cut her cheek. Instead of dropping the knife, she threw the other 2 that she had."

"Alright." Clint said, goading me to continue.

"But when I went over to check on her, her posture changed into an almost fighting stance and her eye color changed to gray! Clint, did any of this happen while Steve and I were away?"

"No…" he said softly, "But have you talked to Steve about it?"

"Planning on it once she falls asleep." I stated. "But I have a feeling I know what it is."

I heard him sigh on the other end, "Nat…I think we all do."

"I got to go, bye Clint." I hung up unceremoniously.

I saw her walk out of the bathroom with a new bandage on her cheek. She walked into the kitchen with a smile on her face.

"You want something to eat?" She asked as she stuck her head in the fridge, "I have cold pizza, smoothies, and…some stuff in Tupperware that I think is safe to eat."

I chuckled, "No thanks, Rena. I'll grab something later."

"Okay." She said as she grabbed some cold pizza and munched on it while sitting on the counter.

_Later that Night._

I insisted that Rena slept on her bed tonight, telling her that sleeping on a couch was bad for her back and etc. Finally she caved, but for only one night she told me as she sleepily dragged herself to her bed.

I sat in my chair in the living room, tapping my fingers against the arm rests impatiently. Finally the door began to unlock, signaling that Steve was home. I saw him walk in drearily and hang his coat on the rack. Although, his attitude seemed to change once he saw me.

"Nat, what are you doing up? Shouldn't you be asleep?" He asked.

"It's only 11 o'clock, soldier." I joked, but then my tone turned serious, "But in all seriousness, I need to talk to you."

He sat down on the couch with a really worried look on his face, "What wrong? Is it Rena?"

I gestured to the open door of her room, silently saying I wanted to go someplace private to discuss.

He seemed to understand as he wheeled me to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Steve slumped down on his bed, even more worried, "Natasha, what's wrong? Please tell me you and Rena didn't fight."

That was unexpected, the one thing he was most worried outside of her safety was that Rena and I got along. It was…really cute and admirable.

I shook my head, clearing those thoughts away, "No, Rena and I get along just fine. It's just…something happened at the range. And before you start worrying, Rena isn't seriously injured, just a small gash on her cheek that will heal within a few weeks."

He exhaled shakily, "Just a small gash." He mumbled.

I rolled my eyes, "Steve, I'm sure she'll live. Anyways, that's not the most surprising thing that happened."

All the color drained from his face, "W-What happened to my daughter?"

Drawing in a deep breath, I began the story, "I instructed her on how to use throwing knives at the range. The 2nd time she threw it, she held it too close to her face, hence the gash. However, she seemed unfazed since she threw the other 2 like it never happened. I wheeled over to check on her to notice that her posture went from being sort of closed in to completely open, like how one would be when preparing for a fight. In addition, her eyes went from a bluish-green tint to an almost stark gray. When I asked if she was alright, she changed back like nothing ever happened." I stopped to let the facts sink in with Steve. I placed my well-manicured hand over his calloused one, "Steve…as much as I'd abhor to say this, I believe Rena has multiple personalities."

He didn't say anything for a while and just at the wood flooring. I kept my hand there, ignoring my instincts yelling at me about how I was getting to close to him.

"What do I do?" He asked, voice cracking.

I shook my head, "I don't know, Steve. I believe she has a pretty good handle on it. Personally, I'd talk to her about, not tonight or tomorrow, but soon. She may not even be aware of it! Also, don't let this affect your relationship with her. You still need to be the dad she needs and you need her."

He shot me a small smile and softly asked, "How did you know what to say?"

I smiled genuinely, "I had a good teacher."

I leaned up, using the bed for support, and kissed his cheek, "I'll let you get some sleep."

Beginning to wheel out of the room, Steve stopped me.

"No, Nat, take my bed. I'll take the couch."

I laughed with disbelief, "Steve, I don't know if you notice, but you won't fit on that couch."

He shrugged, "I'll fit."

I shook my head, "No, I can't take your bed."

"And I can't let you sleep on the couch in your condition." He countered.

Before I could say anything, Steve picked me up from my chair and tucked me into his king-sized bed.

"G'night, Nat." He said before he kissed my forehead and left the room, turning off the light as he exited.

I stuck my tongue out at him before accepting my fate and falling asleep in the layers of cloth that smelled like him.


	7. Sassing an Assassin

**A.N. Man, I can't believe all the love that this story has gotten! Thank you all so much for keeping this story going! Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel**

**Chapter 7**

Rena's POV

_2 weeks after the incident_

I woke up to the monotonous ring of my alarm clock at 6 in the morning. It was still weird sleeping in my own bed since Nat left a few days ago Stretching groggily, I opted for just slipping on a robe over my pajamas instead of getting dressed. Sliding on my blue slippers, I prodded my way down the hall only to find that Steve was out for a run. I curled up on one of the chairs in the kitchen, resting my eyes for a bit. During my rest, I neglected to notice the sound of the front door open and the feeling of metal fingers running through my hair. Wait…METAL?!

My eyes shot open and I tensed all my muscles. My breathing became short and shallow as my heart rate raced through the roof. I silently prayed that Steve would burst through the door and kick some ass.

"W-who are you?" I asked shakily.

"Doesn't matter, I need you to tell me where your father is." He ordered.

I cracked a smirk, "Try Arlington Cemetery, he's been there for about 3 years now, along with my mom."

He growled, and that's how I knew that I really screwed up. He raised his metal hand for a slap, but noticed my wince and stopped. He placed his cold, metallic arm on my forearm and squeezed tightly, knowingly leaving a bruise.

"Just tell me where Steve is." He hissed.

"O-Out for a run. Don't ask me where because I don't know." I answered, scared out of my wits

He forcefully closed my eyes and left as silently as a ninja. I kept my eyes shut until I heard the door open again, in which I reacted with squeezing my eyelids tighter.

"Rena?" I heard Steve's calming voice, "Are you alright?"

I opened one eye to see Steve in his athletic ware. Uncurling myself, I placed a hand over the bruise, shielding it from view. Steve noticed this and gently asked.

"Rena, what happened?"

I shrugged, "You might want to be careful of who you give your apartment keys to, Steve. You know a lot of nut jobs."

He looked confused, "What?" then his expression turned to worry, "Who came to the apartment?"

I snorted air out of my nose, "You're not going to believe this, but you know that guy that you've been chasing for a while now?"

He nodded, not liking the answer.

"Well," I laughed mirthlessly, "He's following you for once."

His eyes widened, then shifted down to my arm, "And he gave you…?"

I shrugged, "I was a little bit of a smartass to him."

A smile twitched at his lips, then faltered, "What did you say?"

"He asked where my father was and I told him that he was in Arlington Cemetery along with my mother."

His smile then fell away, "And he hurt you for that?"

"Eh, tough crowd. It was more of a warning, to tell him where you were. I told him that you were out on a run."

Steve gently pulled my hand away from my arm to inspect the injury. The bruise was about long as a man's hand and you could see the individual fingers. I winced slightly as he pressed on the dark blue/purple bruise.

"Does it hurt a lot?" He inquired.

"Only if you touch it." I quipped.

He seemed to get the message since he stopped poking it. He kneeled and pulled me into a hug, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry that you were scared and I wasn't here."

"It's alright," I responded, "It wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

We pulled away and he held me at arm's length, "Don't worry, Rena, it'll get better."

I nodded, "I know, but right now that guy scared the hell out of me. Steve, who was he?"

He breathed deeply, "It's a long story, Rena."

I looked over at the clock, "Its 6:30 in the morning, I'm pretty sure I have time."

He stood up and patted my knee, "Maybe some other time."

"Some other time?!" I nearly shouted, following him to the living room, "That guy could've killed me and I wouldn't know who he was or why!? Steve, don't I have a right to know my own murderer?"

"No, you have a right, but I don't want you to feel scared." He tried to reason.

"But, Steve!" I cried, "I want- no need to know what's happening! Yes, I know you work for SHIELD and that involves a lot of top secret stuff, but can't I know who that guy was?"

He sighed deeply, "Rena… I just can't. It's too personal."

I looked over to the memorabilia in anger. My eyes landed on that one headline about the Howling Commandos. Scanning over the faces, I saw a similarity between Bucky Barnes and that one guy from this morning. I can't make a solid judgment, seeing how I kept my eyes closed for most of our encounter. The longer I looked, the more similarities I concluded.

"Oh my, God." I muttered, "He's him."

"What?" He asked, taking his hand out of his hair.

"The man from this morning," I said, pointing to the frame, "Is Bucky Barnes."

Steve seemed to look older when he walked over to me, "Rena…yes. The man is Bucky Barnes."

I looked up at him with my eyebrow raised, "So does that make him my uncle?"

He let out a loud laugh, "Rena, you're something else."

I shrugged while smiling, "What?"

He wiped a few tears away, '"The first question that you ask when my best friend from WW2 comes back and breaks into our apartment and leaves with a bruise on your arm is whether or not he's your uncle. That's just…something else."

I smiled, "I know, so what happens now? I mean, he's probably coming back. Do you know why?"

His smile faltered, "Umm…it's a long story, but to sum it up, he's looking for answers that I may have."

I nodded in understanding, "Okay, but you will tell me that story soon."

"In due time." He said, ruffling my hair.

I crinkled my nose as he bent down and kissed my cheek, "So what do you want to do today?"

No sooner than he said that, his phone began to ring. I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach while he took the call. When he hung up, he got that look in his eye that told me that told me that he was leaving.

"For how long?" I asked, already fearing the answer.

"Just for today this time, but I'm worried leaving you alone after what happened this morning."

I waved him off, "I'll be fine," I assured, "I promise that apartment will be 90% in tact when you return."

He quirked an eyebrow, "Only 90%?"

"An argument can be made for 95%." I offered.

He rolled his eyes, "Do I need to get Barton here to babysit you?"

"Steve, babysitter or not I will find a way to cause trouble."

Again, he rolled his eyes, "I'll call Barton while I'm on my way."

I laughed, "Whatever floats your boat, Steve."

He shook his head and walked back to his room to get ready while I went back to mine to at least get my hair under control. I worked my hair into a simple ponytail with my bangs out topped off with a simple blue ribbon. After that, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Walking back into the kitchen, I decided to raid the fridge for apple juice and sit down on top of the table. I saw Steve walk out of his room in a plain white shirt, a leather jacket, jeans, and brown shoes.

"Barton should be here by 8. Will you be okay on your own until then?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, "I should be. If anything goes wrong, I'll call you."

He nodded and kissed my cheek before heading out for…wherever SHIELD's headquarters are. I hopped off the table and onto the couch in the living room, turning on the television. Halfway through the movie _Sound of Music_, my peripheral vision caught the glint of something metallic outside the window. Not giving it a second thought, I sprinted back to the room and grabbed the pistol from my dresser drawer. Sauntering back out into the room, I saw that nothing was out of order.

Groaning, I tossed the gun, and myself, onto the couch. I continued my regularly scheduled programming, visibly wincing when I heard the door knock and open with the help of a key. I didn't get off the couch, already knowing who was here, at least, who was supposed to be. I turned my head back to see my favorite archer.

"Hey, Squirt." He greeted.

"Morning, Katniss. Did you forget your braid again?" I joked.

He stuck his tongue out at me and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Using the counter to pop the cap off, he walked over and sat beside me, setting the open beer on the coffee table. When he saw me eye the amber bottle, he shrugged and said.

"It's not Sunday and it's 5 o'clock somewhere."

Rolling my eyes, I quipped, "Yes, and I bet that Steve will appreciate you taking his alcoholic beverages."

He quirked an eyebrow, "Squirt, Steve doesn't drink. His body burns right through it, thanks to the serum. He usually keeps it around here for either Nat, myself, or any visitors."

My eyes widened, "You mean that Steve actually has a social life?!"

He tossed his head back in laughter, "Good one, kid. I'll have to tell Steve that. Speaking of good shots, I heard about your day at the range and I must say I'm impressed. Was that your first time?"

I shook my head and smiled, "When my dad was stationed in Texas, my mom used to take me to a couple shooting ranges; you know, the usual mother-daughter things."

He smiled, "Regardless, I must say that I'm very proud." He wiped a fake tear away, "My little baby already growing up!"

He then decided to pinch my cheeks. I smacked his hands away and massaged my poor cheeks.

"So can we go to the range today?" I asked hopefully.

"Not today, but maybe later." He said evasively.

I looked at him weirdly, but decided to let it drop, "Well, what can we do?"

Clint ordered pizza (because nothing's wrong with ordering pizza at 8 in the morning) while I turned switched the TV from DVD to cable mode. I changed the channel to the basketball finals between the Heat and the Spurs (a rerun of the previous game that I recorded). Clint sat back down and we watched the game intently until the pizza arrived. We yelled and booed all with Clint taking the occasional sip and me chomping down the slices. Sometimes, I glanced over to the window, still on edge over all the events that happened this morning.

_Later that night_

Cap's POV

I stumbled into the apartment at about 10 p.m., feeling mentally drained. I remembered walking into that underground bunker seeing Agent Hill, Fury, Nat, and Coulson seated around a table. We began discussing if rebuilding SHIELD could even be considered an option at this point; a debate that took on several hours. In fact, we would've continued arguing if Nat hadn't brought up the fact that I had to take care of Rena, swiftly bringing that debate to an end.

Flipping on the lights, I found that Barton nor Rena were anywhere in sight. Fear pumped adrenaline through my veins as I silently checked every room in the place until I happened upon the sleeping form of Rena in my bed. I chuckled softly as I shook her awake.

Her eyes opened slowly, begging me for more sleep, "Hey, Steve." Then she remembered something, "Barton wanted to tell you that he got called for something, but that he set up a camera in the living room in case something were to happen."

I nodded, silently thanking Barton. "So why are you in my bed?" I asked.

She couldn't have lied if she wanted to, and she realized that since she said, "Had a nightmare." She yawned and continued, "You weren't here so this was the best I could do."

My heart wrenched terribly, once again I wasn't here for my little girl.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I gently questioned.

She yawned again, "Same as last time, but in more detail, kinda like re-watching it in HD."

I gently pulled her in for a hug, "I'm sorry I wasn't here, sweetheart."

If words alone could physically break your heart, she got pretty damn close.

"It's alright, Steve." She tiredly said, "You were busy in a meeting, I understand."

I gently kissed the top of her head, trying to convey that she was one of the most important people in my life.

"Want to go back to your bed?" I asked.

She nodded, "Probably should. Carry me?"

I smiled and shook my head as I picked her up with ease and smoothly carried her to her respective room. I tucked her in and kissed her on the forehead saying, "Good night, Rena."

She held onto the covers tightly in her fists and softly, but just enough for me to hear, sighed, "Night, Dad."


	8. Dog Tags and Ice Cream on the Run

**Chapter 8**

Rena's POV

_A few days later_

I kicked the covers off myself and surprisingly got dressed without walking like a zombie. After I slid on some jeans and a t-shirt, I checked the time on my black alarm clock.

"6:15?!" I muttered, "I'm getting way too used to this."

I walked out of my room to find that Steve was still out on his run, although he left a note this time. Scrawled on there was.

_Rena,_

_I'm out for a run, but hopefully I'll be back before you wake up. If not, then get dressed and get a little something eat. I have a surprise for you._

_Love,_

_Steve._

I smiled at the note, but what reason did he have for surprising me. I checked the calendar on my phone, no special holidays or birthdays. I checked on the internet so see if there were any WW2 anniversaries that occurred today, but nothing came up. I sat on the island, stumped to find his reasoning.

Deciding to make my waiting seem productive, I hopped off the island and skipped over to my room and began to tidy it up a bit. (Yes, I was that bored.) I put away all my clothes, deciding that the shopping trip I needed with Nat would have to come sooner rather than later, dusted off my desk, and organized my dresser. I sat down on my freshly-made bed, bored out of my mind once more.

Suddenly, a melody popped into my head. Beginning to hum the tune, I wandered around and danced around the apartment aimlessly. Although, I stopped after ramming my hip into the corner of the end table. I went back to the kitchen and resumed my spot on the island, still humming the melody that made a sudden appearance in my brain.

Soon after, I heard Steve unlock the door and walk in.

"Hey, Rena." He said with a goofy grin.

I held up the note and raised an eyebrow, "What's this?"

He poured himself some coffee, even though the serum burned right through it, "A note."

I rolled my eyes, "I meant the surprise, Steve. What is it?"

He chuckled deeply, "If I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise."

Rolling my eyes once more, "You have a nasty habit of keeping secrets, you know."

"But you'll like this surprise." He said with a smile.

Seeing that would be all the information I'd be getting, I stopped the interrogation. I hopped off the counter and poured some more juice for myself.

Then it hit me. "THROUGH MY OWN EYES!" I shouted.

Steve jumped, "What are you talking about?" He asked confusedly.

"The song, it's been stuck in my head since this morning." I explained, "But where did I hear it? I know I've heard it before, but where?"

"Well, I hope you find out soon." He said encouragingly.

I shrugged, "I don't know. So about that surprise?"

He laughed, "Let me get cleaned up and then we'll go."

Steve washed and dried his cup and then went back to his room to get ready. I swung my legs back and forth during my wait. About 10 minutes later, he emerged from his room, dressed in a button down, khakis, and a brown leather jacket.

"Ready to go?" He asked.

I nodded and hopped off the ounter, "So where are we going?"

He grinned, "A surprise, but I know that you'll like it."

I rolled my eyes, "Ugh, you're going to kill me!"

"I'm pretty sure you can't die from not knowing something." He reasoned.

I raised my eyebrow, "You work for SHIELD, try telling me how lack of information won't kill somebody."

He groaned, "Just roll with it, Rena."

I shrugged and rolled with it. I grabbed my (well, technically Steve's) blue jean jacket and bounded after him. Instead of taking the car per usual, he busted out a really nice motorcycle and tossed me a helmet.

"Alright!" I exclaimed, putting the helmet over my head and tucking in the rest of my hair, "And you were going to tell me you had a bike when?"

He brushed off the dust from my seat, "If I told you about it, you probably would've wanted to ride it and I didn't want to risk an accident."

I rolled my eyes, like a little accident could hurt me, The Great and Invincible Rena! I hopped onto my seat behind him and he climbed on and started the engine with a roar. Soon, we were zooming down the streets of D.C., all the trees and buildings becoming blurs of color. Together, we raced down a familiar road until we reached a building that had been my companion for 3 years.

I smiled at Steve as we took off our helmets and slid off the bike. Racing up the concrete stairs and nearly tearing the door off, I entered the familiar hallway. Taking a quick glance at the clock, I felt relieved that they would still be at breakfast. I zoomed through the hallways until I happened upon the huge dining hall. I stealthily walked in until I saw a familiar head of light brown hair belonging to a little girl. I crept over there, putting a finger to my lips to keep the others from giving me away. Finally, I picked up the child on one swoop, making her shriek with joy.

I placed her on my shoulder and she shrieked with happiness again.

"Rena, you're back!" She giggled.

I had to laugh, "In the flesh, Jamie. Now tell me everything that's happened."

I set her back down on the ground, the spectacle causing several others to gather round and I kneeled in front of her as she prattled on. In the middle of her story about how her and this new kid, Leo, were playing make believe as Peter Pan and Wendy when she decided that she would lead the other little kids to go and get Father Sanders. After they toddled off, I came face-to-face with Megan.

Her reddish blonde hair and bright green eyes never changed since the last I saw them. I pulled her into a hug.

"That was some show, Jackson." She said, crossing her arms in front of her jean jacket and tee.

I flashed a toothy grin, "Told you I'd pull some strings."

She rolled her eyes, "And here I'd thought we'd finally be rid of you."

"As if you could get rid of me that easily." I scoffed.

She smiled and nudged my shoulder, "Good to see you haven't softened up, but where's your pop? I hope you haven't returned in the fashion I'm fearing"

I shrugged, "No, nothing like that. I may have ditched him while I was running here. He's probably talking to Father Sanders or one of the cooks. Speaking of which, I better go see what he wanted to talk to me about."

Before I left, I grabbed a napkin and a pen. Scrawling my number on it, I handed it to Megan.

"Call me if you need anything or if you want to chat."

She nodded and gave me one last hug. We parted and I glided off to Father Sanders' office. Knocking a couple times on the door, I opened it to reveal Steve and Father in a deep discussion.

"Ah, Sarena, just the person I wanted to see." He said warmly as he hugged me.

"It's good to see you as well." I replied.

He released me, "Steve and I were just talking about the adjustments and such. So how are you faring?"

I shrugged, "Pretty well, nothing really out of the ordinary."

"That's good. Well, I'll let you be on your way, but before you go." He walked over to the closet behind him and grabbed a small box, "Take this, but don't open it until you get home."

I nodded, "Yes, sir. It was good to see you again."

"Likewise, Sarena." He said with a smile.

Steve shook his hand, thanking him for the visit and we walked back out to the motorcycle.

"Anywhere else you want to go?" He asked, tossing me my helmet.

I tapped my finger thoughtfully on my chin, "Could we go back home and think about what to do from there?"

He nodded, "Sounds doable."

We hopped back on and sped to the apartment. Once inside, I got that peculiar feeling that something was awry as I hung up my jacket. I scanned over the apartment, looking for any signs to support my instincts. I found nothing.

Hiding my disappointment as Steve entered, carrying the box that Father Sanders gave me. He handed me the box and I didn't take a second to hesitate before tearing apart the cardboard structure. Inside, I found silver dog tags, my father's dog tags, hanging off a chain. Tears built up in the corners of my eyes as I ran my thumb over the engraved surface.

Steve helped me put them on without question. I looked down on the surface in disbelief.

"They were my dad's." I whispered, offering an explanation, "Father…Father Sanders took them away since every time I saw them, I'd break down crying. He told me he'd give them back once he knew I could handle it. I guess I can now."

Steve didn't say anything as he pulled me into a hug, seeing that I needed one.

"They look great, Sarena." He finally said after a while.

I pulled away and nodded, wiping away the tracks left on my cheeks, "Yeah, I guess they do."

Steve smiled and ruffled my hair, "So anything else you want to do?"

"Could we go to an ice cream shop? Not a chain store, but an actual shop. Sort of like the ones you told me about?"

He looked at me thoughtfully, "That could be quite a drive, kiddo. But I think a situation like this deserves it."

He pulled both his and my jackets off the rack and we left the apartment as swiftly as we came. However, since it would be a long drive, we opted to take the car. Soon, we were hitting the streets of Maryland in a sleek black car.

After driving for about an hour, 2 naps time for me, we finally found and old Ma and Pa shop in the downtown area of a small town. We got out of the car and Steve put his arm around my shoulders, still wary from the whole 'assassin in the apartment' situation. Setting off the bell by opening the door, I ran over to the display case where all the flavors were showcased. I gazed in wonder at all the flavors, then decided on ordering cookies 'n crème with rainbow sprinkles and caramel sauce in small bowl.

While Steve was ordering and paying, I chose a table that was outside so we could overlook the charming life that was Small Town, America.

Cap's POV

After ordering my chocolate ice cream in a cone, I walked over to the register to pay for them.

"She your daughter?" The old man asked, gesturing to Rena.

I nodded with a smile, "Yeah."

"You're a lucky father then, not many teenagers want to come to this old place." The old man smiled, "She's very beautiful, must've gotten it from her mom."

I nodded, "She did, I'm afraid I'll have to start chasing the boys away with a stick soon."

He laughed heartily as I pulled a twenty from my wallet, "I'll bet on it, but she looks like the type a gal that can hold her own."

He began to pull out the change when I stopped him, "Keep the change, I'd hate to see a good place like this go to waste."

The man smiled gratefully, "Thank you, sir, and God bless."

I smiled and walked outside to join Rena who already was halfway through her ice cream.

"Have a nice conversation?" She asked with a grin.

I leaned back with a smile, "Yeah, pretty difficult to have one of those these days."

She nodded thoughtfully, "Hey, Steve, can I ask you a question?"

I nodded and leaned towards her concerned, "What is it?"

"Are you ever going to send me to school? I mean, I'm not complaining about going to a place where people judge you daily, but there will be some people that will notice my lack of education."

I scratched the back of my neck, "Truth be told, Rena, I haven't thought about that. Would you want to go to a private school?"

Her eyes widened like saucers, "No offense, Steve, but HELL NO! I don't do private schools."

I chuckled, "What about Catholic schooling?"

She shook her head, "I'm only Catholic by title; meaning that I follow my interpretation of the Bible, not someone else's."

I nodded and said, "Alright then. Hmm…maybe we'll just cross that bridge when we get to it. About how far is your education?"

She thought about it for a little while, "Maybe sophomore level math wise, **(A.N. That's second year of high school: 15-16 year olds)** but I'm probably at a freshman college level for reading."

"O-Okay," I said, "Maybe we'll… Well, we'll figure something out."

Suddenly a saw a glint of a metal dash around the corner of a nearby building. I ignored it for the time being, until I got a text on my phone from a classified number that read.

_You might want to take her somewhere else, Steve._

I locked my phone and immediately told Rena, "We need to go."

She didn't question me, she just bolted to the car with me right behind her.

Once we were inside, we sped out of town and towards a place where I'd know she'd be safe.

"Steve," She asked worriedly, "What's happening?"

I simply tossed her my phone and she read the text.

"Aren't you going to trace it?"

I shook my head, "After I get you to safety."

"Safety? What does that mean? Am I in danger?" Fear rising into her voice.

"At the moment, no, but I don't want to take any chances."

"How am I in danger, Steve?"

I sighed, "Rena, the Winter Soldier…used to be my best friend Bucky Barnes."

She nodded, "Yeah, we went over that a few days ago."

"I know," I pressed, "But since HYDRA brainwashed him so much, he's become more violent. Also, he wants answers on what he used to be like and only I can supply him with those answers."

"Alright, so the guy wants to play 20 Questions. How does that spell my immanent doom for me?"

"It's not just that! Rena, please, he's…prone to violence if pushed too far." I explained.

I heard her mumble something under her breath, but I didn't hear it. I turned into a driveway attached to a familiar house.

We climbed out of the house and she eyed the white house.

"Steve, why are we here? More importantly, why do I have the feeling that you're going to drop me off here?"

I ignored her as I rapped on the door, revealing my short-time, but trusted friend, Sam.

"Hey, Cap." He greeted, "And company." He said, gesturing to Rena.

"Sam, I need some help." I pleaded.

He suddenly turned serious, "Got it, come on in."

Rena and I followed him into the house where we sat in the living room as he pulled the drapes over the window.

"So what's happening, Cap?"

"He's back and knows about her." I explained vaguely.

He seemed to get the message, "So what does he want?"

"Answers, but I wanted to make sure she was safe before I gave them to him."

He nodded, "Understood, want backup?"

I shook my head, "I'll be fine."

I turned to Rena, "This is Sam, and he'll be taking care of you."

She nodded sternly, but didn't say anything.

"I'll be back soon." I told her, "This won't be long mission."

She looked up at me sorrowfully, "Promise?"

"I can't promise that, but what I can promise is that I will be back as soon as I can."

I kissed her forehead before I got up and told Sam goodbye. He pulled me into the kitchen and spoke in hushed tones.

"Are you sure she'll be safe here?"

I shook my head, "Not for long, but I'll make arrangements for New York."

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" He whisper-yelled.

"You think I could drive 4 hours without worrying about an accident?"

He seemed to understand, "And this arrangement wouldn't happen to be Tony Stark?"

I smiled, "You hit the nail on the head, but yes, he'll be here to get her sometime after the weekend."

He nodded, "Oh and Cap?"

I turned around, "Just remember he might be the kind of friend you need to stop."

I shook my head and opened the door, "Already stopped him, now I need to help him."

And with that, I left.

**A.N. Whew! This is one of my longer chapters, but the action's picking up! *inner squeal* What will happen to Cap and Bucky? How will Rena adjust to New York? Will she have another attack? All this and more in the next chapter so stay tuned! Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or the character whatsoever. (P.S. If anyone can guess where the song is from, they will get a VIRTUAL COOKIE and…. A SHOUTOUT! But I am not merciless, I will supply a hint and that is; the song is from a TV show)**


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